Dinner Reservations
by Superhero11
Summary: When Sherlock asks Molly out on a date, she immediately assumes that it is for a case. Sherlock decides to not correct her assumption, but things change when they reach the restaurant. -Complete- Sherlolly love for everyone! [Post-Hounds, Pre-TRF if that matters to anyone]


_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story. But if I did…_

_This story takes place after the events of Hounds and before the Fall. But that isn't super important for this story to make sense. _

Dinner Reservations

_Buzz Buzz_

Molly's phone was angrily vibrating from where it was placed on the lab bench a couple of feet away from where she was standing. While it was technically against the hospital's policies to have the phone sitting out on the table, Molly didn't always follow the rules.

Most people found this knowledge contrary to everything that they know about her, but Molly didn't particularly care. She had spent her entire life following every rule to the letter and it meant that her life was dull. Nothing unexpected ever happened. The most interesting thing that ever happened was when Jim from IT [who she found out later was Moriarty] asked her out for a cup of coffee. They had spent most of the time talking about the other unexpected person in her life, Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes is, to be perfectly blunt about things, the one exception to every rule that Molly Hooper could have possibly made for her life. She never planned on being a doormat for him to walk all over. She wasn't as shy and awkward when she was spending time with her friends from university. She definitely wouldn't let anyone else use various body limbs for experiments of their own. And to top it all off, she wouldn't spend half of her time trying to hide her romantic feelings from him and spend the other half trying to justify why it wasn't completely pathetic she let him be her exception to everything.

Because even though Molly would love to say that everything that happened between the two of them had been her explicit decision and that things where only this way because she let them…Molly wasn't foolish enough to actually believe any of that.

There was just something about the consulting detective that made Molly believe that she wasn't completely pathetic that she felt this way about him. Sure, he was a brilliant detective, truly excellent in his chosen field. He could deduce someone in mere seconds and take in every detail of a room as soon as he stepped into it. He could have been an award-winning scientist making new discoveries every year. And Molly can't deny that he is remarkably handsome. His cheekbones, eyes, and curly hair would have been attractive enough without his impressive physique that could wear suits so naturally that models would weep.

However, none of those things were why Molly kept her mobile phone with her in the lab. Molly kept her phone because Sherlock really needed his friends. While he does have the emotional and social finesse of an orca, he isn't purposefully mean to those for whom he cares. Sherlock isn't aware of this himself, but he has become more human since meeting John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. And some of that humanity has been transferred to how he treats her. It isn't incredibly noticeable to anyone but her, but he has been more kind to her. And since they are friends, Molly doesn't feel guilty for keeping her phone with her.

So, Molly sets down her paperwork and walks over to the bench where her phone is sitting. She looks down at it and, sure enough, sees that it is a message from Sherlock Holmes.

_Molly-_

_I need a date. I'm sure you say yes._

_Wear something nice and not that hideous cherry cardigan that you usually wear._

_I'll meet you at your flat at 19:00 sharp._

_You haven't moved, right?_

_-SH_

"What in the world?" Molly questioned out loud as she read the message again. Sherlock had never needed a date before in his life. He is a self-proclaimed bachelor and was devoted only to his work so -

"Ahhh…" Molly nodded as she answered her own question. "This must be for a case that he is working on" She murmured as she typed back a response.

_I haven't moved. But you probably already know that. _

_It's more surprising that you asked about it._

_I'll see you then._

_~Molly_

The rest of the day went by normally as Molly tried to determine what she should wear tonight. Since Sherlock had asked her, it was obvious that he was taking her out for a case that he was working on. That means there is a pretty good chance that they were going to either get shot at or have to run around London chasing after someone.

"Definitely not a good plan to wear any heels." Molly thought as she opened her closet door after she showered to get the smell of the morgue off of her. It wasn't like she was too disappointed about the shoe situation; heels and Molly didn't particularly get along.

She had to reach around to the back of her closet because her work and casual clothes were at the front. As she reached around her fingers touched the black material of the dress that she knew she would never wear again even though she'd only worn it once after purchasing it for the party a year ago. It was the dress that she had worn to the Christmas party at 221b were her foolish present had been pointed out as exactly that. So Molly just moved her hand further back and picked out the green dress that she had bought on a whim.

Taking off the price tag, Molly slipped the dress over her body and rooted around for the pair of flat shoes that matched it perfectly. As Molly looked herself over in the mirror, she decided to put in the pair of snowflake earrings in an attempt to display some holiday spirit.

She gave her reflection another quick glance. "Well, this is a good as it's going to get" before turning at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

As she opened the door, it shouldn't have been a shock whom was on the other side, but yet it was. Molly stood still in the doorway as she stared for a minute at him.

"It is 19:00, is it not?" Sherlock asked as he looked down at her.

"Yes. It is." Molly replied.

"I'm exactly on time." Sherlock stated with a smug smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. When she didn't respond for a couple of seconds, he said, "You were expecting me, correct?"

"Of course I was." Molly said shaking her head out of the momentary stupor that it was experiencing. He had just dazzled her again. This time, it wasn't his intelligence or his bumbling attempts at friendship. It was the way that he looked wearing his long Belstaff coat with just a couple of snowflakes still shining brightly against his dark curls. It was hard to remember that this wasn't just another one of her romantic fantasies about him. This was actually happening.

"I'd recommend grabbing a coat to wear. It is winter, you know." Sherlock said with one raised eyebrow. He couldn't understand what was happening with Molly Hooper, but it seemed as if she had just hit her head on a low hanging piece of wood.

She scoffed, turned, and walked over to the coat hook where her jacket was hanging. Sherlock watched her as she walked over and back to the door, surprised that he couldn't seem to help himself from looking at the way that the green of her shoes made the skin of her legs look so pale and bright. He quickly adverted his eyes hoping that she wouldn't notice the direction that he was staring.

"Better now?" Molly replied and indicated that she was going to be walking through the doorway herself now.

Sherlock laughed softly and nodded as he indicated that she should walk in front of him down the stairs.

The detective and the pathologist continued exchanging idle banter as they walked down the stairs and stepped into the cab that Sherlock had used to come to her flat earlier. It was easier than she remembered to be in his presence. It had been a while since she had seen him. From what he was saying [she had just asked him about his most recent case. Always a good way to get him to talk] it sounded like he had been more involved than what she had expected. It involved a disbanded project, a several year old murder, and a top-secret government facility.

Sherlock continued to prattle on about that as the cab pulled up to the restaurant they were going to be eating at. Without a word, Sherlock quickly slipped out of the cab. Molly took this to mean that time was of the essence and quickly made to grab her things and just as she was about to pull on the lever to open the door, it opened for her.

She looked up and Sherlock was standing there with his hand offered to assist her in getting out of the cab. With a brief questioning look, Molly took his hand [it would be rude to ignore it] and stepped out of the cab.

Sherlock smiled at her and took the same hand and tucked it into the corner of his elbow.

It seemed like this was a very important case if Sherlock was taking the extra care to appear as a couple so she didn't protest and say that she was perfectly capable of opening her own doors like she so desperately wanted when he walked up to the waiter and asked for a table for two.

After sitting down at the table in the corner with the Christmas lights around it, Molly finally decided to ask Sherlock for more information.

"How dangerous are these suspects, exactly?" Molly asked just as the waiter came over to take their drink orders.

Sherlock appeared to dismiss her question and order two glasses of red wine and some more water for the two of them. Once the waiter was gone, Sherlock looked back at Molly and carefully studied her for a moment. She seemed to be under the impression that they were currently on a case and that was not the truth. Sherlock had simply asked her because John had suggested it. John had pointed out that Molly might sill have hard feelings towards him considering what had happened a year ago. Sherlock thought it was ridiculous, but John insisted that he take Molly out for dinner just to further clean the air.

However, based on her question, it seemed obvious that the incident from a year ago was not still coloring every encounter that they had like John had said.

"Molly, do you really think I would put you into a dangerous situation?" Sherlock replied with a question. If she thought this was for a case, he saw no reason that he should have to correct that incorrect assumption.

"I don't know if I should believe you." Molly stated with a small sip of the wine that had just been placed in front of her.

"It's always the best policy to take everything that I say for gospel." Sherlock replied while leaning forward to take her hand in his. He had seen many other couples do this in similar situations so he thought that it would be best to follow suit.

Their waiter came back and took their orders [yes, _orders_, Sherlock actually was going to eat something?!] after inquiring how they wine he selected was. Molly waited another couple of seconds before responding to _that_ comment.

"If they aren't very dangerous, then why are you doing this?" Molly questioned as she quickly looked around the room. There wasn't anyone else in the restaurant that she would have considered dangerous or shady, but then again, her skills of deduction were not as good as Sherlock's.

"Doing what, darling?" Sherlock questioned as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

Molly could feel herself blushing. He looked so honest and sincere sitting there across from her. It was so easy to forget that this was just an act that he was doing in the name of 'good detective work.' Yet, if she was going to keep from getting her heart stomped on in a couple of weeks by him, she knew that she needed to remain levelheaded.

"Don't be intentionally patronizing, Sherlock. It's really bad mannered." Molly said as she started eating the pasta that the waiter had just placed in front of her.

When they had finished eating Sherlock responded, "I happen to have excellent manners-" Sherlock started to say before Molly interrupted with a well-timed cough. After a brief glare in her direction, he continued, "-and I was about to ask if you would care to share a dance with me."

Molly hadn't noticed the music before now, but there it was, a soft piano piece playing in the background. Before she had the time to think of a polite way to dismiss the question, Sherlock was standing in front of her with his hand once again extended towards her.

As she stood up, she decided to play along with the characters that they were supposed to be portraying, "But, Sherlock, no one else is dancing." Molly smiled as she allowed herself to be pulled across the room to a cleared space for dancing. She stood there nervously and carefully brushed out the folds in the skirt of her dress. "It feels silly."

"Darling, that hasn't stopped us in the past." Sherlock responded, taking her hand in his and pulling her closer to him so that they could assume the usual waltz position.

He heard her laugh as she carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, but he also heard it stop when he placed his other hand on her waist. He looked down at her and saw that she was carefully looking at his shoulder since her face had turned pink once more. As he regarded her, he couldn't help but feel a sort of satisfaction at the proximity of her body to his.

Sherlock leaned down so that his head was closer to her ear. She smelled like oranges and test tubes, a combination that on anyone else would be repugnant but on Molly fit her perfectly.

They continued just like that for the rest of the song. Sherlock was letting her smell enter into his mind palace to place in the Molly Hooper room that was next to the John Watson one. And Molly would glance up to look at his beautiful eyes that spoke the knowledge of his wonderful mind. She couldn't help the thoughts that invaded her mind of how "this is how it would be if we were a couple". So, whenever it became too much, she would look away again before the urge would strike her again.

When the next song started, Sherlock whispered into her ear, "Did you know that we are standing under the mistletoe branch?"

Molly quickly looked up and indeed saw the romantic sprig. Terror and embarrassment flashed though her mind. "Sherlock, you need to know that I didn't intentionally direct us this way. Please don't feel like you are obligated to kiss me just because of the parts that we are playing."

"It would be odd if we didn't, Molly." Sherlock replied as he gently brushed the hair that had fallen over her cheek behind her ear. He couldn't explain why, but in this moment, Sherlock really wanted to kiss her. He had taken her to _dinner_ after all. It wasn't odd that he was anticipating this now.

"I don't think it would be odd. Surely, whoever we are looking for won't be paying that much attention to us." Molly replied as she looked up at him.

"On the contrary, they will be." Sherlock lied very easily. This ruse of the case was turning out to be more useful than he originally thought it would.

"I don't want you to feel like it is an obligation." Molly softly replied wanting to give him an out one last time. But her tone probably didn't help because she was just staring at his lips secretly praying that he would kiss her.

"It's not, darling." He whispered as he slowly leaned into her and gently pressed his lips against hers.

It wasn't the most romantic kiss of all time, but to Molly, it felt that way. She was surrounded by dim lights and soft music with the man who she thought was more interesting and original than anyone else.

Sherlock had pulled away slowly to find that Molly was following his movements in an attempt to prolong the kiss. He had made the kiss last a bit longer than he had originally intended. He leaned forward with a small smile on his face. "I do know that you did not direct us this way." He said as he walked back to the table and paid the check. "I did." He winked at her before taking her back outside to the cab.

Without having any response for that, Molly rode most of the way back in silence. The silence continued until Sherlock and Molly were standing in front of her door.

"Thanks for dinner, Sherlock" Molly said as she turned to put the keys into her door.

"That wasn't dinner, Molly." Sherlock replied quickly.

"Yes, I forgot. It wasn't dinner, it was a case." Molly responded with a quick nod.

"Molly, that was dinner, but it wasn't _dinner_." Sherlock said with a carefully arched eyebrow.

"Is there supposed to be a difference? It is the same word." Molly replied with a slight laugh.

"Dinner is a meal, but _dinner is dinner_." Sherlock responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He didn't understand why it was possible that she didn't know this. If he knew, there couldn't be any way that she didn't.

"Sherlock, I know you usually have to spend a lot of time explaining things, so it seems odd that you would do it so poorly. You can't define a word using that word." Molly responded with a small pat on his upper arm.

He felt his arm tingle where her hand had come into contact with it. He decided that he didn't care if she really understood the difference. "It's not important." He leaned down and pressed another soft kiss to her cheeks. "Sleep well, Molly Hooper."

"You too." Molly said with a smile as she stepped into her flat and shut the door behind her. When the door was securely shut, she leaned her back against it and felt her cheeks flush for another time that evening as she smiled to herself brightly.

Later that evening when Sherlock walked back into 221b Baker Street, John Watson looked up from his book. "How did dinner go?" He asked doing his best to hide his genuine curosity.

"It was as expected, John. You made a decent suggestion." Sherlock replied as he walked straight into his bedroom.

When John knew that Sherlock was safely in his room he set the book down and chuckled. He knew that Sherlock had no idea what his expectation where going in before. Sherlock thought that it was Molly's feelings that were coloring every encounter those two had. But as John has noted on several occasions, Sherlock acts a lot smarter than he actually is in actuality. John knew the truth, that is was _Sherlock's sentimental feelings_ that were altering the encounters, and not Molly's like he had assumed.

'He really is an idiot', John thought as he picked up the book and smiled to himself.

**Author's Note: You could consider this story as in the same storyline/character choices from my other fanfiction that I posted a couple weeks ago titled, ****One Tuesday Morning****. If you haven't checked it out [and you liked this story] please read it. Okay, shameless plug for myself over now. =)**

**I hope that you enjoyed this story. Please leave a review!**

**Best Wishes, Ally XXX**


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